Chapter 32: A Game Hard Fought
Sunday, January 4, 2010
The next morning, Niels was back at the training ground.
The 1–1 draw against Torquay United was still on his mind.
They had come close to winning it. Too close.
He stood near the edge of the pitch, watching the players stretch. The January cold had settled in, and the grass was still wet from the morning rain.
The FA Cup match was only three days away.
Leyton Orient.
Away from home.
A League One side.
It was going to be a much harder game than yesterday's.
Most of the regulars were back in training now. Max Simons, Luka Radev, Korey Henry, Dev Patel, Nate Sutton, Jamal Osei and Tom Whitehall were all out on the pitch. Toby and Ilyas Kader were there as well, along with the rest of the squad.
Niels had kept today's session light.
There was no point exhausting anyone.
But he still wanted them sharp.
As the players went through their exercises, his thoughts returned to the Torquay match.
He had rested several of the regulars for a reason.
The Cup was important.
Still, watching Torquay score that late equaliser had been painful.
They had been so close to taking all three points.
The match itself had been lively from the start. The Broadfield stands had been full, with supporters singing and waving scarves throughout the game.
Niels had stuck with his plan.
The regulars stayed out, while the reserves were given their chance.
Dev Patel had taken responsibility for the set pieces, and for most of the match, the plan had worked.
Until the final minutes.
Niels watched the players on the training pitch and sighed quietly.
A draw wasn't a bad result.
But he couldn't stop thinking about the win they had let slip away.
There was no point dwelling on it, though.
Leyton Orient was waiting.
And this time, he would need his best team.
Torquay started the game well.
Their forwards pressed high, while the wingers kept looking for space on the sides.
Adam Fletcher was kept busy early on. The experienced keeper made a good save from a curling shot and quickly got the defence organised.
[Calming presence]
Reece Darby was also having a solid game at right-back. He had been brought into the team for some extra depth, but he didn't look out of place. He won his tackles and dealt with most of the balls coming into his area.
[Elite spatial awareness]
In midfield, Ilyas Kader was doing plenty of running. He stayed close to Torquay's midfielders and made it difficult for them to get comfortable on the ball.
[Press-resistant]
The first twenty-five minutes passed with little to separate the teams.
Crawley kept their passes short and tried to stay compact whenever Torquay had possession.
Then, in the 27th minute, they finally found their chance.
Dev's corner came into the box with plenty of pace.
The ball dropped into a crowd of players. The Torquay goalkeeper came out but failed to get a proper touch on it.
There was a scramble.
Toby reacted first.
He threw himself toward the ball, and his knee caught it. The ball then bounced off a Torquay defender and rolled over the line.
"Goal!"
For a moment, Toby just stood there.
Then he turned and ran toward the corner.
"Yes!"
His teammates followed him, and the stands erupted.
Toby raised his fist as the supporters started chanting his name.
[Leadership aura]
Ilyas reached him a second later and grabbed him by the shoulders.
Niels stayed on the touchline, watching the celebrations.
His Instinct Lens highlighted Toby's determination.
He gave the young forward a small nod.
The first half ended with Crawley still ahead.
The second half was much harder.
Torquay came out with more pressure, forcing Crawley deeper into their own half. Ilyas spent most of the half chasing the ball, while Reece made an important sliding block when Torquay broke forward.
"Stay calm!" Niels shouted. "Watch the wings!"
But Torquay kept pushing.
Their wingers were finding more space, and Crawley's players were starting to tire.
By the 75th minute, the mistakes were becoming more noticeable.
A loose touch here.
A missed runner there.
Niels could see what was happening.
His first instinct was to change something, just like he would have done when playing FIFA.
But there was no pause button.
He had to make the decision while the game was still moving.
Then came the mistake.
In the 80th minute, one of the reserves misplaced a pass in midfield.
Torquay took advantage immediately.
Their left winger picked up the ball and drove forward. The Crawley defender tried to stop him but was too slow.
The winger cut inside and sent a low shot toward the far corner.
Fletcher dived.
He couldn't reach it.
1–1.
The away supporters erupted.
Niels clenched his fists.
His Instinct Lens briefly highlighted the young left-back.
[Fragile confidence]
There were still ten minutes left.
Niels decided to make another change.
"Kieron, get ready."
The academy player came on a few minutes later.
[High potential]
He immediately linked up with Ilyas, and Crawley started pushing forward again.
Toby nearly put them back in front when he received the ball near the edge of the box and shot from a tight angle.
The Torquay keeper got down quickly and pushed it away.
The crowd groaned.
A few minutes later, Ilyas broke forward again and sent a cross toward Toby.
Toby made his run, but the ball was just too far ahead of him.
The final whistle came soon after.
1–1.
Crawley had taken a point, but Niels couldn't help feeling that they had left two behind.
The dressing room was quiet when Niels walked in.
The players were tired, but no one looked ready to complain.
Niels stood in front of them.
"You gave everything today," he said. "We could've had Max, Luka or Korey out there, and maybe things would've been different. But you earned that point."
Toby was still catching his breath. Ilyas sat nearby, listening closely.
"Now forget about this game. Leyton Orient is next."
A few players nodded.
"Get some rest. We'll prepare properly tomorrow."
Niels left them to it.
On the way to the bus, he went over the match again in his head.
Having the regular starters out had made a difference.
Max might have finished one of those chances. Luka could have found a pass that the reserves hadn't seen. Korey might have caused more problems on the wing.
But there were positives too.
Nobody had picked up an injury.
They had taken a point.
And more importantly, the players he needed for the Cup were still fresh.
As Niels sat on the bus, he looked out the window.
His old life felt strangely distant these days.
Sometimes he could still remember sitting in front of FIFA, spending hours changing lineups and searching for players.
But even those memories were starting to fade.
He couldn't remember every detail anymore.
Maybe that was for the best.
The next training session was focused on Leyton Orient.
Niels wanted the players prepared for their pressing game, so they worked on quick passing, counterattacks and set pieces.
Luka looked sharp, moving the ball quickly whenever he received it.
[One-touch intelligence]
Korey was causing problems on the wing, repeatedly getting past his marker.
[Inverted winger potential]
Max was back in full training and looked like himself again, shrugging off a challenge before carrying the ball forward.
[Press-resistant]
Kieron was less comfortable.
Niels noticed the hesitation in his movements.
[Unstable confidence]
"Kieron."
The youngster looked over.
Niels walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't rush. Control the ball first. Then decide what you want to do."
Kieron nodded.
"Got it."
He jogged back into the drill.
Niels watched him for a few seconds before turning toward the rest of the team.
"Stay sharp!"
The players looked over.
"Orient are going to press us hard. Don't wait for them to settle. Hit them first."
The next drill started.
The players moved the ball faster this time.
The draw against Torquay was still fresh in everyone's minds, but it hadn't hurt their confidence.
If anything, it had given them another reason to work harder.
By noon, Niels was back in the boardroom.
Mr. Hargreaves was already there, along with Claire, the club's scout. She had a tablet in front of her with several player profiles open.
Hargreaves got straight to the point.
"One signing," he said. "That's what we can afford right now."
Niels sat down.
"Loan or free agent?"
"Either. A cheap transfer is possible too, but nothing expensive."
Claire turned the tablet toward him.
"We've got a few names."
Niels looked at the screen.
"Let's see them."
Niels leaned forward.
For a moment, he tried to remember his old life. FIFA, player ratings, transfer lists. The memories were still there, but they were becoming harder to hold onto.
"I've got a few names," he said. "Though I'm not completely sure about all of them."
Claire looked up from her tablet.
"Thiago. São Paulo's striker. If we can't afford a permanent deal, maybe we can try for a loan. He's young, technical, and I think he could be dangerous."
Claire wrote the name down.
"José Baxter from Everton. He's not getting much playing time, so a loan might be possible. He's young and creative. I think he'd do well here."
Niels paused before giving the next name.
"Chris Smalling. Fulham. A centre-back. We could ask about a loan, though I'm not sure they'll agree."
"And the last one?"
"Sol Campbell. He's a free agent. He's experienced and could give us some stability for a short-term deal."
The names felt familiar, even if Niels couldn't remember exactly why.
They were pieces from an old life that was slowly disappearing.
Claire looked through her notes.
"Thiago could be possible on loan if São Paulo are willing. Baxter shouldn't be too difficult if Everton are open to sending him out. Smalling will be harder, but I'll contact Fulham. Campbell is available, although his wages could be a problem."
Hargreaves leaned back in his chair.
"Haha. You're better prepared than I expected, Niels."
He looked toward Claire.
"Find out what each one would cost us."
"Of course."
They spent the next few minutes going over wages, loan fees and what the club could realistically afford.
Niels listened, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the upcoming match.
Leyton Orient were going to be a completely different challenge.
Back on the training pitch, the final session of the day was coming to an end.
Luka went up for a header, but sent it just wide.
Toby chased after the ball.
[Late bloomer]
Niels watched with his arms folded, the cold air cutting through his coat.
The draw against Torquay hadn't been what they wanted, but it had still given them a point.
Now they had to deal with Orient.
A League One side.
A much bigger test.
His phone buzzed.
It was Elise.
"Pie's rioting. You coming?"
Niels smiled and typed back.
"Soon, I swear. Cup match first."
He put his phone away and looked across the emptying pitch.
Orient would be difficult.
But Crawley had been working toward this.
And whatever happened next, he wanted to see how far they could go.
The players slowly made their way inside.
Niels stayed behind for another moment.
He thought about Milan and everything that had happened since he'd arrived in this world.
He also thought about the person he'd been before all this. A guy who spent his time playing FIFA, managing players that existed on a screen.
Those memories were fading now.
This life was different.
Messier, harder, and much more real.
But Crawley was his responsibility now.
Niels took one last look at the pitch before heading inside.
The Cup match was only a few days away.